


Think Dirty To Me

by newtypeshadow



Series: Think Dirty To Me [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes is a menace, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Dirty Thoughts, Domestic Avengers, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fade to Black, First Kiss, For Science!, Getting Together, Lust, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Pining, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Requited Unrequited Love, Specifically: Involuntary Lust Telepathy, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Has No Parachute, Steve Rogers Needs No Parachute, Telepathy, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Hates Magic, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 23:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow
Summary: A magic spell aimed at  Steve hits Tony too—but everything's fine!Until Steve starts thinking lustful thoughts about his boyfriend, Bucky,and Tony can hear them.Cue awkwardness (Steve), science (Tony), and scheming while being a shit (Bucky).





	Think Dirty To Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt "Telepathy" from Day 1 of the [February Ficlet Challenge 2019](https://februaryficletchallenge.tumblr.com/post/182166753514/ffc-2019-approaches). Last year's FFC was great fun, and this year's is already amazing! ^_^ Check out [the AO3 fic collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/February_Ficlet_Challenge_2019/profile) and, if so inclined, participate!
> 
> (Also, I'd like to take a moment of silence for the other two Stuckony fics that branched out of this premise and may never see daylight. *sigh*)

Tony Stark starts hearing Steve Rogers’s thoughts on a Tuesday.

When Steve is about to have sex with Bucky Barnes.

To be fair, it’s not Tony’s fault. Not entirely, anyway. _Tony_ —remarkably—wasn’t the one who pissed off an amorous sorcerer by sassing him mid-monologue. While both were on the roof of a skyscraper. And the Avenger in question didn’t have an exit strategy beyond “jump and let gravity catch me.” No, _that_ was all Steve. So it was Steve the villain of the week was gunning for with that magic beam of spite, not Tony.

Tony was just the poor sap closest to Steve when Bucky shouted, “Goddammit, Steve!” into the comms, at which point Tony and JARVIS noted Steve was in freefall hundreds of feet above some very solid pavement, and Tony dove to catch him.

“Would it kill you to use a parachute, just once?” Bucky raged.

“Don’t need one,” Steve had said, a smile in his voice. “I’ve got Tony.”

“And what happens when I’m shot out of the sky?” Tony snapped, tamping down the flutter in his traitorous heart at Steve’s obvious sincerity, and diverting more power to his thrusters.

“You better not,” Bucky said at the same time Steve said, “That’s not funny, Tony,” and a worrying beam of light pinged on Tony’s sensors.

Tony caught Steve in time, obviously. Tony will never let Steve fall. Unfortunately, the magic beam the maniac shot after Steve caught Tony as Tony caught Steve, and even though medical cleared them a few hours ago, apparently the beam’s effects were slow-acting, so now Tony’s pants-tighteningly aware that Steve approaches sex with all the strategy and intensity he exhibits during missions.

It happens when Tony’s buried in post-mission gear upgrade designs. Inventing is his love language, and lab binges like this are his modus operandi since Pepper broke up with him and left him with no one to come home to, no one who’ll kiss him and cuddle him and be visibly happy he’s alive. The barrage of words and images blindsides him with what he quickly realizes is a plan to ambush Bucky with sex when the man gets out of the shower.

There’s no question these thoughts are Steve’s, given the comfortable affection and familiarity for Bucky that underlies the plan’s lasciviousness, and the use of inefficient phrases like ”making love” in place of shorter and entirely appropriate words like “fuck.”

There’s also an elegance to the plan’s design, its chess-like contingencies and counter-moves based on Bucky’s likely responses, that hits Tony right in the sapiosexual section of his attraction to Steve Rogers. Tony simultaneously admires this elegance, and the mouth-watering images he gets of Bucky naked and writhing in uninhibited pleasure; feels the familiar covetous ache of wanting _in_ that relationship and knowing it’ll never happen; hopes rubbing one off in the lab’s bathroom will enable him to focus on these rocket boot designs for Steve that are top priority now in case he _jumps off another building_ and Tony and Sam aren’t close enough to catch him; and feels abject terror he’s only eighty percent sure is unjustified that Steve will blame Tony for this intrusion into his sex life, and move himself and Bucky out of the Tower and into some apartment in Brooklyn or DC, and Tony will only ever see them on missions from then on, and it’ll always be awkward between them, and he’ll have lost his two favorite people in the Tower, lost two of his closest friends, and when Tony’s too old for Avenging they’ll kick him off the team and be relieved to never have to speak to him again, and he will die miserable and alone.

Tony’s a futurist, and not all futures are happy when you’ve a penchant for cynicism and catastrophic thought spirals. Shutting those down before the inevitable “and I die miserable and alone” conclusion is an ongoing battle he mostly keeps under wraps.

 _Cap_ , Tony thinks as hard as he can, _great plan, super sexy. The thing is I’m kind of stuck reading your mind right now—not my fault but there it is—and I don’t think either of you wants me in your head for this._

Steve’s surprisingly creative sex thoughts continue uninterrupted. Tony feels a flush creep up his neck.

_Steve?_

Not even a flicker. It’s as if their telepathy only goes one way.

Just like Tony’s blood, which is all going south.

Shit. Shit fuck shit shit _shit_. Tony has to tell him. Tony _needs_ to tell him. Ideally (unfortunately; goddamn ethics) before Bucky gets out of the shower and things get out of hand.

Or well in hand.

Ahem.

“J,” Tony says, voice a little rough, “tell Steve if he’s thinking about drying Bucky off from his shower and then blowing him against the wall by the sink, I can, uh… I can hear his thoughts.”

“Very good, Sir,” JARVIS says without sounding judgmental.

This is far from the strangest thing Tony’s ever said in his presence.

Tony can tell the minute JARVIS gives Steve the message, because the foreign thoughts in Tony’s head just _stop_. The part of him that loves (more specifically: is in love with) his friends is relieved he’s respecting their privacy. The part of him that lusts for said friends is disappointed.

There are a few more flashes of lustful thoughts, all brief, like Steve is trying to avoid thinking them. Tony can tell when Bucky gets out of the shower, though, and the image of Bucky in all his naked glory, rivulets of water trailing down his hip bones and glinting off his metal arm, eyes softened by affection, is something Tony will definitely be revisiting in the privacy of his bedroom. In the meantime…

“Tell Steve to meet me in medical.”

Tony arrives soon after and starts setting up for neuroimaging scans. Magic or no magic, there’s got to be _something_ science can do to fix this, or at least help identify the problem. Tony is pulling up the diagnostics he thinks will be relevant when he’s plunged into overwhelming lust at the image of himself wrapped around Steve in the elevator, their mouths locked in a filthy kiss while Steve moans low in his throat and effortlessly holds Tony aloft by the thighs. Bucky is pressed up against Tony’s bare back, peeling off his flight suit while sucking hickeys down his neck.

The thoughts jump to Bucky kissing Tony in an unfamiliar bed, Tony’s fingers gripping Bucky’s long hair. It feels so intimate, sensual, colored by affection.

And then lust knocks him sideways again, and Tony’s watching himself with hooded eyes as his lips stretch around the thick cock Steve’s pushing into his mouth, and Bucky’s metal hand cups the back of Tony’s head to hold him still.

Tony chokes back a moan as his body floods with heat and his dick throbs. He has to use the examination table to stay standing. His mouth is watering, his heart thundering in his ears, and his boxer-briefs feel uncomfortably tight. Did those thoughts really come from _Steve?_ Happily monogamous, romance-for-the-ages, Captain Vanilla _Steve_? Tony presses the heel of his hand to his dick, willing it to behave long enough to get the brain scan over with so he can abscond to his bed. Fuuuuuck.

The lewd images cut off abruptly.

Tony takes a minute to collect himself—feeling somewhat akin to a cat that fell off a table and is pretending it didn’t happen—and then resumes setting up the machines. He’ll scan himself and Steve, see if anything’s there that shouldn’t be.

He ignores the traitorous part of himself that points out, quite logically, they’d have much better data if their brains were also scanned while Steve got his mental freak on.

“Sir, Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers are on their way down,” JARVIS informs Tony.

“Do they look mad?”

“Quite the contrary. Captain Rogers displays signs of embarrassment, and Sergeant Barnes seems amused.”

Tony’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Okay. I can work with that.”

JARVIS’s impressions look spot on when Steve and Bucky stride out of the elevator. Steve’s face is bright red, and Bucky wears a smirk that only widens when he sees Tony.

“You readin' minds now, Tones?” Bucky says as he pulls Steve along, right arm slung over Steve’s criminally broad shoulders.

Bucky’s hair is still wet. Tony tries very hard not to recall what he looks like naked and dripping. And since Tony’s brain only shorts out for a second, he’s calling that a win. “Just Steve’s, apparently,” he answers, affecting nonchalance, “and pretty much only the fun stuff. So far, anyway. But it’s magic, so who knows what’ll happen before we get the spell removed or reversed or whatever sorcerers call it these days.”

“Tony, I am so sorry,” Steve says, beginning what will no doubt be an epic apology. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me—”

“True,” Tony says, to be a shit. Bucky’s shoulders jerk with stifled amusement.

“—and I know you’re probably very uncomfortable, having to see my…well, what you’ve been seeing.”

Tony snorts, grin self-deprecating. “Yeah, for a certain definition of ‘uncomfortable,’” he mutters, unable to help testing the waters. Still, he’s glad the examination table blocks his friends’ view of the tent still ruining the clean lines of his designer sweatpants.

Steve winces and soldiers on. “I don’t know how much of my thoughts you can hear, but now that we know, I’ll do my best not to think of anything sexual until we get this sorted out. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable or awkward around us because of me.”

Tony waves off his apology. “It’s not me I’m worried about, creampuff— _I’m_ enjoying the show. _You_ , on the other hand, are so red right now I’m surprised you’re not setting off any of JARVIS’s health protocols.”

Bucky snickers. Steve elbows him, and Bucky dances away. His hand slides from Steve’s shoulder to rest against the back of his neck.

Tony gets a sudden flash of Bucky pulling the soft, short hairs that curl there, and Steve’s wet mouth falling open, and Bucky’s closing over it and swallowing the sounds he—

Steve pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes and groans. “Sorry! I’m so sorry, Tony! I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

“Shame on you, Stevie,” Bucky purrs against Steve’s ear. “What were you thinking?”

“Buck!” Steve swats him away and glares. “You did that on purpose.”

“Me? What did—?” Bucky turns to Tony, all wide-eyed innocence. “I dunno what he’s talkin’ about.”

Tony laughs, and Bucky grins wolfishly and winks at him.

“I hate to say it, Cap,” Tony says, “but if you were pretty much anyone else, I’d’ve written up a protocol by now just to fuck with you.”

Bucky’s face lights up. “You can _do_ that? Can we do that?”

“Can do, Buckaroo—” Tony says, nearly drowned out by Steve’s emphatic, “ _No._ ”

“—but since Cap here didn’t sign up for a mental threesome with me, and I’m trying _not_ to make him hate me, you two should probably have a talk before essentially inviting me into your sex life.”

Steve and Bucky exchange one of those couples-y looks that amounts to a conversation no one else understands.

Tony lets them, choosing instead to recalibrate the machine for Steve, then pats the table. “Alright, Cap, get on the bed and assume the position.”

Steve’s nostrils flare and a riot of position-related fantasies explode like fireworks behind Tony’s eyes, then implode into nothing less than a second later. Tony jerks with the impact and blinks up to see two shrewd sets of blue eyes studying him. He scratches the back of his neck and looks away. “Yeah, right, that one’s on me. Innuendo is, what, my fifth language? But I use it in _every_ language, so…” He pats the table again. “Up, Clifford. I need your brain for science.”

Miraculously, things go smoothly through two brain scans of Steve, and two of Tony. Whatever Bucky’s whispering sets Steve off during their second scans. “It’s for science, doll,” he insists with a wicked grin. “We have a control, we need the variable.”

He’s not wrong. It’s helpful data.

Tony is willing to die of embarrassment for science.

He’s only marginally surprised they stick around after the scans. They like to chill out in Tony’s lab, too, then drag him upstairs and make him eat and be social, and try to con him into sleeping. The two are slotted together like puzzle pieces now, on a couch by the windows, chatting, while Tony analyzes the results with JARVIS and then frantically starts running diagnostics on his equipment.

“Well,” he concludes at last, fuming at the bizarre results, “I fucking hate magic. Half these readings are literally impossible. These machines are not physically capable of rendering readings in whatever bullshit Hogwarts language this is—and yet, here we are.” Tony shoves away the virtual screens in disgust. JARVIS, bless him, turns them off by making it look like they hit a wall and shattered. “If this spell broke my machines, I swear I’m barbecuing a wizard. I’ll do it right in front of Fury if I have to.”

He hears chuckling from the couch and startles. When he turns, Bucky is snickering into his metal fist. Steve is doing his best to look disapproving, but his lips are twitching.

“Shut your face, Judge Judy, he’d deserve it,” he snarks at Steve. When Steve raises an eyebrow in response, Tony groans. “ _Fine_. JARVIS, don’t tell me where they’re keeping him. I don’t want to know. Well, I _do_ , but—”

“I believe that is best, Sir,” JARVIS says reprovingly.

Tony slumps and shuffles his hands through his hair in consternation. “I can’t even _begin_ to fix this,” he admits. “J, call Strange again, send him the scans, he’ll love those. If he won’t come now, tell him I need an ETA.”

“Very well, Sir, I shall leave him another message.” JARVIS sounds displeased.

“Did he open the first one?”

A pause. “It would seem so.”

“Make a note: however long it takes him to show up is how long I’m waiting next time he needs the Avengers to help with his mystical bullshit.”

“Noted, Sir.”

There’s a rustle from the couch. “You about done?” Bucky asks. He’s got his arm around Steve, who’s partially leaning against his chest, Steve’s big, sturdy hand on Bucky’s knee.

God, Tony wants to be part of that. Moments like this, it hits him like a repulsor beam to the chest how much he loves them, and his heart aches like it’s too small to contain the feeling.

“Tony?”

Oh, right. Bucky asked him a question. “Just about, Tastee Freez. Need to clean up, and then we’re all just stuck waiting on Strange.”

Bucky’s chuckle is warm and throaty, and Tony wants to wrap himself in that sound and stay there. “You know he’s gonna think this is funny and not show up for a week, right?”

Tony nods. “He’s kind of an asshole.” It’s part of why he and Strange get along.

Tony is stretching to push a machine head closer to the ceiling when he abruptly sees himself through Steve’s eyes, and gets the image of Steve behind him, hands sliding along the sliver of skin exposed by his t-shirt, and gripping, pulling his ass against Steve’s—

Tony shudders and turns to the couch in surprise.

Bucky’s smile is positively wicked. His mouth hovers a breath from Steve’s flushing ear.

“Steve?” Tony says, looking in confusion between him and Bucky.

Bucky’s hand tightens on Steve’s bicep, and his eyes are hot and predatory as he eyes Tony and says something into Steve’s ear that makes Steve’s lips part with a quickly indrawn breath—

And Tony sees himself bent over the examination table right next to him, Steve pounding into him, Steve’s name on his desperate lips.

Tony wants that so bad his stomach clenches. He leans heavily on the examination table, eyes arrested by the crotch of Steve’s khakis like if he just looks hard enough he’ll see through them. It takes longer than Tony cares to admit to drag his eyes up to Steve and Bucky’s faces. The look in their eyes makes him feel like the best kind of prey, like they want to take him apart with their mouths. Their fingers twitch like they’re itching to reach out and _take_.

God, he wants them to. Move him, lift him, hold him down, tell him how to please them, he wants it _so much_.

And a Stark always reaches for what he wants—especially when there’s a chance he might get it.

Tony strokes the bulge in his sweats in a slow, deliberate caress, grinning like a shark when Steve and Bucky’s eyes zero in on the movement. Steve’s thoughts erupt with sensual images of Tony’s hands. Bucky’s tongue flashes out to lick his lips.

But they stay on the couch.

Tony shakes his head disapprovingly and straightens, taps absently on the table as he moves around it toward the elevator.

Steve’s eyes are on his ass, and Tony puts a bit of sashay in his step, grinning at the technicolor explosion that causes. “Hate to say it,” he says, “but I’m disappointed by your lack of initiative.” He steps into the elevator and leans against the back wall, hips cocked forward, and hooks his thumb into his waistband, tugs to reveal the tantalizing jut of his hip bone.

Bucky and Steve scramble to their feet and stalk towards him.

It gives Tony a rush, and he smirks. Goads them a little more. “I assumed you were men of action, but all you do when you want something is _think_. J, penthouse.”

The doors have barely begun to close before Tony’s hemmed in by two super soldiers, and Bucky’s kissing him—hot, wet, demanding, his metal grip perfect as it holds Tony in place.

“JARVIS, our floor, please,” he distantly registers Steve saying, and then his mind is a riot of Steve’s plans to _make love_ to them all week.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is the first MCU fic I've posted, so if you enjoyed it, please leave kudos and/or comments to let me know. ♥

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Think Dirty To Me: Alternate Ending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18107819) by [newtypeshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow)




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